Toska
by Imaginary Dreams
Summary: There are aches so powerful and deep, no word in the English language can encompass the true meaning.


**Toska (Russian**) - The ache. Best described by Vladmir Nabokov - "No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness."

* * *

She had lived a happy life, although not a long one. She had defeated the Labyrinth, she had defeated the powerful Goblin King. She was a champion, a conqueror. After she defeated the powerful Fae, Sarah had made herself promises- promises she intended on keeping, no matter what.

Sarah worked harder in school and was proud when she was accepted to Julliard- not for just her acting skills, but for singing skills she had never even noticed before- before her journey.

At just 20 years old, her dreams were coming true. She was a rising star on Broadway. She had made peace with her step-mother and did her best to be the daughter her parents deserved, to be the sister Toby deserved.

Yet, at night, she was haunted. She could hear his voice beckoning her...

_"Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."_ The paradox of his words, of his wishes frightened her and enthralled her to this day. If only he knew...she did fear him. She feared his power, what he was capable of doing...what he was capable of changing. She loved him...no, it wasn't a teenage crush as she led herself to believe for so many years. If it were so, how could she still be held in his thrall 5 years later? 5 years of dreaming of him- his mismatched eyes that threatened to steal her and keep her forever. That broken look on his face when she defeated him, but the satisfactory glint in his eyes when she had defeated him- almost as if he were proud of her accomplishment.

_"Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that the child be taken. I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for *you*! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations. Isn't that generous?"_

No...not everything, Jareth. Not everything.

The dreams would cause her to lose sense of time. She would sleep during the night, only to wake hours later and find that a day had passed. Eventually, it got to the point where she took a leave of absence from her new production to see a doctor.

Doctor after doctor. Diagnosis after diagnosis. Words she didn't understand and countless tests, scans, and results later, they diagnosed her with a malignant brain tumor.

Numbness coursed through her veins instead of fear or sadness. She knew there was no bargaining. She knew eventually, she would just fall asleep and never wake up.

Those thoughts didn't hurt her. They didn't cut through her heart as much as not seeing Toby graduate and live a life. Not seeing her parents live their lives. Not seeing her Goblin King even again...

She refused treatments that had a slim chance of prolonging her life but would destroy her psyche. Why take one poison in place of another, she would ask the doctors. No, she wasn't suicidal. Far from it. She wanted to live. She wanted to be able to live. But you can't live when your body betrays you. When your body becomes dependent on tubes and bags and you become strapped to a stretcher or wheelchair.

Three months later, she entered into hospice care. For some reason, she could feel a change in her body- a tiny, immeasurable spark that seemed to vanish. But she had arranged it to be done in her own home. She couldn't bear the thought of dying in a strange bed. A strange building.

She struggled through the visits with her parents, smiling at their lies.

"Honey, you're looking so much better today."

"Sarah, Toby's excited to come see you tomorrow."

"You know, in the Netherlands, they're working on a new course of treatment..."

Lies. Lies. Lies.

Yet, she would humor them.

"Thanks, daddy."

"I know, Lynn. I look forward to seeing him, too."

"Really? I'll look into it."

Their lies were comforting everyone. But they could only do so much for so long.

On a moonless night with her windows open, she sat on the bed, her knees to her chest and cried.

She hurt. There were no words to express her sorrow. She felt betrayed. Alone. Unloved. She felt like a failure, a liar.

"It's not fair," she cried, fisting her hands in her hair. Not knowing what came over her, she began to pick up objects from her bedside table and throw them at the wall. She stood and began to destroy her room, breaking, tearing, and battering her belongings, all while crying out the words "it's not fair".

Exhausted, she collapsed on the carpeted floor, her heart racing, but her mind at ease.

"There's no need to ask for a basis for comparison this time, I suppose," she heard a smooth voice say.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes, not bothering to turn. She'd never forgotten that voice. Now it seemed even her hidden dreams were torturing her.

"Really?" she replied, eyes downcast.

She heard glass crunch and paper crumble and felt the breeze of a body crouching down in front of her. She could feel his breath on her.

She looked up and saw him, the sight of the sorrow in his eyes causing her to cry again as he took her in his arms and held her, her chest heaving with sobs.

"I don't want to die," she whispered, her cries having faded an hour ago. He still held her close to him. Sarah could feel his heartbeat echoing in her head.

She felt him lift her in his arms and walk to the bed. Jareth gently put her down and sat next to her, taking her in his arms again. She moved closer to him, wanting to hear his heartbeat, wanting to feel his chest move with his breaths. His hands stroked her back, trying to give her comfort.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

His hands stilled over her back, hesitating. Sarah waited, expecting a torrent of how this was his victory- the Fae over the human.

"I knew. Well, I've known that...that you were sick. And it hurt me. To see you suffer like this- to see you shun your loved ones, even the child you begged me to take away all those years ago. No, this is not the Sarah I know. This is not the Sarah who defeated me- the brave, kind, wistful Sarah. To see one you love suffer...there's no word to truly describe that ache."

Sarah looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. She saw her Goblin King clearly in the night, his face stony, but his jaw quivering, his beautiful eyes glassy with unshed tears. It struck her, at that moment, how different things were now than they were 5 years ago.

5 years ago she was a child, a fanciful dreamer. Now, she was a bitter, dying 20 year old, fleeing from life- taking the coward's way out simply because of her own misery.

She gently took her hand and placed it on his cheek, turning him towards her. There were no words now, nothing that could be said. After all, actions spoke louder than words.

She kissed him gently, imagining that she wasn't dying, imagining that she was going to live a life with the one she loved. She needed her dreams now, more than anything. She needed her fantasies, as did Jareth.

Their kisses tasted of salt- their tears finally finding release.

The next few months, their nights were like this- whispered words of love and kisses that left them breathless, wanting to absorb all the words, all the power of living in the moment.

Three months later, there were no whispered words of love. Just the sounds of the Goblin King mourning the loss of his love; the loss of his champion.


End file.
